Lothiriel Elarinya
by Charlotte Elizabeth
Summary: Lothiriel Elarinya, Princess of Lothlorien, Daughter of Galadriel, is thrown into the fellowship as Middle Earth battles against the Evil of the One Ring. Can the Fellowship last, ca they triumph over this Evil, can the Elves survive untill the One Ring is destroyed, can love blossom amongst all this death and suffering and will Lothiriel ever be accepted by her family? Legolas/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring**

"_I amar prestar sen: han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae…a han noston ned wilith. The world is changed: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air…Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it._

_It began with the forging of the Great Rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest…fairest of all beings. Severn to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And Nine…nine rings were gifted to the race of Men who, above all else, desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived…for another ring was made._

_In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others…and into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life._

_One Ring to rule them all…_

_One by one the Free lands of Middle earth fell to the power of the ring. But there were some…who resisted. A last alliance of Men and Elves marched against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle earth. Victory was near! But the power of the Ring could not be undone. It was in this moment…when all hope had faded, that Isildur, son of the King, took up his father's sword. Sauron, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle earth, was defeated. _

_The Ring passed to Isildur…who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. But the hearts of Men are easily corrupted. And the Ring of Power has a will of its own. It betrayed Isildur to his death and some things that should not have been forgotten…were lost._

_History became legend…legend became myth and for two and a half thousand years the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when a chance came, it ensnared a new bearer!_

_The Ring came to the creature Gollum, who took it deep into the tunnels of the Misty Mountains and there, it consumed him. The Ring brought Gollum unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind. And in the gloom of Gollum's cave…it waited._

_Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a Shadow in the East…whispers of a nameless fear. And the Ring of Power perceived…its time had now come. It abandoned Gollum. _

_But something happen then the Ring did not intend…it was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable…a Hobbit…Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. For the time will soon come when Hobbits will shape the fortunes of all."_

**1. A Long-Expected Party **

Frodo Baggins of the Shire sat, his Hobbit feet propped atop a small grey rock, his hands supporting the weight of a delicate book, the pages tugged by a slight playful breeze. He rested beneath an old tree, the leaves created a dappling of sunlit pools which rested on the grassy meadow, caressing the young white flowers which decorated the green expanse. It was the dying days of a glorious summer in the Shire and the sun smiled as its warming waves subsided into the cool caresses of evening. The young Hobbit grinned to himself for there could not be a better day, as not only were the birds singing, their bright a colorful tunes merging into a beautiful melody, but it was also his birthday, he was turning an important 33, he was, as the Hobbits noted it, "coming of age".

Swiftly the young Hobbit sprung to his feet, his deep blue eyes shining with excitement as the calming recurrent sound of a pony and trap weaved its way through the trees. Normally this would not have caused such an abrupt movement from such a Hobbit, it was not the manner of many of his kin, as Hobbits, for they were no such sheltered creatures, seldom had need for such hurried movements. Air around the young Hobbit seemed to tingle with great anticipation, for it was not often that such travelers came to the Shire for there were much greater matters at hand in the vast lands of the world. Frodo dared not tarry any longer as he sprinted towards the road, the book now forgotten lay, its pages kissing the grass, its leather bound cover displaying the title "How to surprise a Wizard".

Lothiriel Elarinya sighed as she entered the Shire, a cool wind tugging the tresses of her hair; she had been in the dark so long, away from anything as beautiful as the Shire in such an age that for once she felt free of the confining chains that constantly weighed her down like shackles. Casually she glance at the Wizard beside her, her one companion, her greatest friend. He sang the song of travels; it was a Hobbits invention, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire in fact. Her hardened brown eyes softened at the thought of the Hobbit, for whose birthday the two companions had traveled so far to see.

She glanced down as Urúvion nuzzled his head against her arm, resting, his red fur vibrant, against the silver tunic she wore. Brown eyes, not dissimilar to her own, stared up at the hooded Elleth. Carefully, she reached into the pack by her feet, pulling from it a dried piece of meat which she gave the young fox. She had found him alone in the woods, his coat matted and his trust broken. Had it not been for her own desolate situation she probably wouldn't have noticed the cub huddled in the hollow root of an ancient tree. But she did notice him and with her want of companionship so great she had taken pity on the fox cub, claiming him as her own. The path to trust between the pair had been a rocky one, neither willing to back down on many respects, and so the fox had earned his name, Urúvion, fiery. The two had never parted, he had been with her far longer than she had known Gandalf, both remaining loyal to the other, neither willing to be parted.

"If you feed that creature anymore he will surely turn into a pig." Gandalf chuckled at the Elf, who only smile slightly in return, raising a scarred brow at the Wizard.

Suddenly, her eyes darted off to the edge of the forest, hands moving to the bow resting behind her. Her body was tense, taught as a wound spring.

"Your late." Lothiriel relaxed slightly, smiling as Frodo came bursting through the trees, but the grip on her bow did not lessen.

"A Wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

There was a pause…then deep laughter rang through the forest, Lothiriels quiet chuckle far outdone by the hearty laughter of Gandalf and Frodo, so loud was their mirth that it disturbed a small nesting flock of songbirds, their indignant voices sending protests at the two males. Urúvion glanced at the birds, a hungry, wanton stare in his eyes, but he did not stray nor indeed move at all from his position next to his mistress.

Lothiriel, Gandalf, it is wonderful to see you again." The Hobbit cried as he launched himself from the bank into Lothiriels arms. Urúvion jumping into the very back of the cart, amongst the many oddly shaped packages to avoid the flailing arms and legs of the excitable Hobbit.

"You didn't think we'd forget your Uncle Bilbo's birthday did you?"

"Well, I didn't think Lothiriel would forget to remind you, if that's what you mean Gandalf." Lothiriel chuckled, much louder than before, at Frodo's cheek and at Gandalf's fake look of insult at this remark. Hearing his self-proclaimed ward laughing, truly laughing brought a smile to the Wizards face, which was mimicked by Frodo for his own ingenious remark.

Lothiriel hopped down from the wooden cart, her fingers passing the fresh deep gashes in its side as she did so. "I will leave you both to talk." Grabbing her pack, and with a meaningful look at Gandalf she turned and faded away into the trees, her silver tunic shimmering away her form until all that could be seen was a young fox following a fading shadow.

Lothiriel weaved her way through the forest, fingers brushing the tress around her, they were so young, different from any other place she had ever been. There was no darkness here, the forest, the very air in the Shire smelt of innocence. It felt like diving into an icy pool, cool, refreshing, cleansing her of the darkness that clung to her mind.

As she walked she noticed how the grass cushioned the heads of many tiny white flowers, which strained to reach the last of the dying rays of the sun, many already closing their crown of petals to wait until morning where once again they would gaze up upon the Sun. Beside her ran a small stream, winding like the finger of a vine across the ground. Glancing up quickly she noted Urúvion leaping into the air in the hope of catching one of the many flittering butterflies. Smiling she decided to follow the stream, in the hopes that it would lead to a small pool where she could clean away the grime of travel.

Silently she walked along the stream, letting the mottled dying rays of sun, caress her skin, even the sun hear seem less pained, the rays carrying more warmth it seemed, though she doubted this to be the truth. A head the trees became thicker on either side of the stream which seemed to increase in breadth the further on she walked. Abruptly the trees seemed to disappear on either side, curving to form a wide space, in which was a large pond, the clear water lapping at its edges.

Carefully she set down her pack and the weapons, mindful of her right shoulder. Gradually she shed her outer tunic till only her shirt and breeches remained, then the Elleth waded into the pool. Cold water licked at the inside of her thighs, soothing the aches that had built there, tensing and stretching her muscles, she dug her toes into the soft silt floor of the pool, letting her senses guide her. Leaping up, she swan dived into the deeper water, diving down to the bottom, her mahogany hair streaming out behind her. As she swam, she felt a familiar presence on her mind. Quickly she propelled herself to the surface, blinking the water from her eyes. Urúvion sat a rabbit dangled in his jaws, settling down with his new meal he watched his mistress swim in the pool, her muscles twitching occasionally after the long journey in the cart, with little else to do but sit and wait. But all had not been well on the trip, and the growing evil had taken its toll. The deep gash that slashed through Lothiriels thigh was evidence enough of that.

The party, for although it was called a party was really a variety of entertainments, was well underway. There were many dances and songs, some of the dancers merging together creating an amusing clash of color, movement and vibrancy. Practically everyone in the Shire had been invited and all were full of life and enjoyment as the party when under way. As was the rule of Hobbit birthdays all the guests got their own gifts, Lothiriel had been gifted with a rather amusing trinket that chimed beautifully when moved, it was in fact a collection of many small trinkets, small crafted bells and chimes of leaf and bird in shape. Gandalf had a set of crafted spoons which had elicited throaty chuckles to issue from the Wizard.

Among the many dancing Hobbits there were games and story tellers, which the youngest of the Hobbits gravitated towards when they were not entranced by the Elf in their midst, asking for tales of afar and songs of the Elves. And of course there was the food, for Hobbits were known for their love of it, there were three courses, denoted only by the fact that all the Hobbits were sitting and eating at the same time, for there was food present at all times and many Hobbits feasted while the others partook of the entertainment.

Gandalf and Lorthiriel both provided their own share of amusement for the Hobbits in the presence of fireworks, designed, brought and made by both Wizard and apprentice who let them off much to the delight of the Hobbits. There were set pieces depicting stories of adventure, special effects and vast flights of rockets. With generous distributions of squibs, crackers, backarappers, sparklers, torches, dwarf-candles, elf-fountains, goblin-barkers and thunder-claps, it was well known that the talent of Gandalf improved with age. There were rockets like a flight of scintillation birds singing with sweet voices much like those in Hobbition's forest. There were green trees with trunks of dark smoke: their leaves opened like a whole spring unfolding in a moment, and their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished Hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before the touched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or a phalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air with a yell like and embattled army, ad came down again into the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes. And as Gandalf went to collect more of the pleasurable fireworks two cousins of Frodo watched from the shadows, the two mischievous hobbits in their late teens pounced as soon as the Wizard was gone. Pippin, the younger of the two, scrambled on to the wooden cart in which the many fireworks were housed. He scrambled grasping at the many shaped rockets as Merry directed from the sidelines.

"No…no…the big one…the big one!" His whisper was urgent but not missed by Lothiriel who glanced at the two just as Pippin leapt from the cart with the largest rocket in hand. The two Hobbits disappeared into a tent, and Elleth made to follow them but moments before she reached the tent the two Hobbits had entered it flew into the air with a violent growl, exploding in a great flurry of sparks which merged to form a red and gold dragon, not life-size but terribly life-like, there was a great roar and fire spewed from its open mouth, it whizzed over the gathered Hobbits, its eyes glaring down, all of them ducked and many fell flat on their faces, till it passed and with a summersault exploded with a deafening bang over the Bywater .

Gliding over towards the two rascals that had lit the rocket she caught the end of their convocation.

"That was good!"

"Let's get another one"

Gandalf strode past her, pulling the Hobbits to their feet, ad although his face was stern his eyes sparkled with unshed laughter.

"Meridoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took...I might have known!"

Lothiriel watched as the two Hobbits set about cleaning the many glasses, dishes and cutlery (although there was very little of that to clean) as their punishment. But they seemed to take it in good nature for the most part. They were young and had not yet lost the foolish inquisitive nature of their youth for a more reserved caution, for that was soothing that was learned through many years, even she was still learning now. Her hand moved to rest on the scar in the thigh, she still had much to learn it seemed.

"Speech!" Frodo cried out into the crowed.

Bilbo cleared his throat, looking out onto the quietened crowed of Hobbits.

"My dear Bagginses, and Boffins, Tooks and Bandybucks...Grubs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles and Proudfoots..."

"Proudfeet!" Shouted an Elderly Hobbit from the crowd, his name of course was Proudfoot and was well merited and his feet were both exceptionally large and furry, both resting on the table in front of him.

"Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday. Yes, and alas...Eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits!" A tremendous outburst of approval came from the gathered crowed.

"I don't Know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." This elicited and exchanged smile between Gandalf and Lothiriel as the Hobbits provided a smattering of scattered clapping as many were trying to work out wether it was a compliment or not.

Suddenly Bilbo's hand dove into his pocket for something, pulling it out and moving both hands behind his back. A darkness crept over the mind of Lothiriel, a shadow that licked at the edges of her aura, chocking her, the likes of which she had wished never to feel again.

"I have...things to do and I have put this off for far too long...I regret to announce, this is the end. I am going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell! Goodbye." Instantaneously the Hobbit vanished but the darkness that licked at the edges of Lothiriel's mind did not. It only grew when Bilbo had vanished and was slowly waning although the pain had sharpened greatly, as had the ache that all Elves felt when evil was near.

Gandalf glanced worriedly at his Elven companion, her pain was still raw in her heart, Elves held on to such things for long periods of time, their pain still remaining fresh. Once he had feared her death from such a loss. Even now she still had moment of great sadness.

"Lothiriel?"

"I am fine, Gandalf, it was nothing, go to Bilbo." So, his eyes still clinging cautiously to the young Elleth he turned for Bag End.

Lothiriel carefully packed away what provisions she and Gandalf would need for their journey, taking the food offered to her by the Hobbits. She pulled the pony and trap away from the party, which still continued without its host, onto the road where she mounted the trap, Urúvion joining her putting across his discomfort that there was something wrong, evil, in this place, heading in the direction of Bag End. Her mind could still sense the darkness, and it grew ever closer she moved in the direction of Bilbo's and Frodo's home.

Ahead of her, in the blackness of the road, a shadow moved, causing her hands to find the grips of her long knives as it approached. She would not be caught unawares again.

"Lothiriel, my dear, we have not had the time to talk."

"And nor it seems we shall Bilbo, old friend, for you look well on you're way to an adventure."

"Right as always, then till we meet again my lady." The Hobbit bowed graciously to Lothiriel which she returned as best she could from her position.

"Yes master Bilbo, till we meet again, and may it be in the peace of Rivendell."

Even after Bilbo had gone the Elleth did not relax her grip on her knives as she continued on her way to Bag End.

Lothiriel entered the Hobbit house, stooping low for as known Elves were very tall, the evil pressed harder on her mind, knocking the breath out of her lungs as an eye, wreathed in flame burned into her retinas.

"Gandalf..." Her breath was ragged and pained as the old Wizard rushed to her side.

"Lothiriel, what is it my child?"

"An eye wreathed in flame, you do not think...?"

"I cannot be sure, I had hoped it could never be...but now I am not so certain."

"You do not think do you that this could be the one Ring?"

"I do not know, but we must find out! Travel out to Rivendell, warn Elrond of my thoughts, tell him I will come when I am certain, go now Lothiriel and good luck."

" What of you Gandalf?"

"I must travel to the White City of Gondor, perhaps there I will find some answers. Now go, I will meet you in Rivendell." Lothiriel fled quickly from Bag End, grabbing her pack and bow as she fled into the night, away from the eye wreathed in flame.

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings an only own my own invented character Lothiriel Elarinya. Well after many helpful reviews I have re-written the first chapter, I hope this makes it better. Thank you all, but a special thanks to 'Aena Firestar', 'ReallyOldGuy' and 'one from fire'**_

_**Charlotte-Elizabeth x**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring**

**2. Rivendell**

Slanted, stinging knives of rain seeped through the thin material of the Elleth's cloak as she crouched beneath the heavy drooping branch of a young tree. Her silently drawn breaths fogged in the air around her, her mind flickered to Gandalf, she wondered if his journey was less trying than her own. Urúvion pressed himself closer to her body, the water that saturated his fur forcing away any comfort she could get from this position. Her legs aching in protest, she hadn't chosen the best place to hide but she'd had no other choice...that was a lie, she could have fought them, she could have killed them like they were now planning to her, but experience had taught her this was not always the best choice, hiding to avoid a fight was much easier, many times much safer too. But now that was not the case, they were closing in on her position and there was nothing she could do about it. Reaching back she pulled her bow from her quiver, along with a single arrow, the bow was of Elven make, although splintered in places and decorated with dried blood from various battles. The arrows were little more than the straightest twigs she could get her hands on, feathered with feathers from birds that Urúvion rarely caught. She would rather not waste the few arrows which she had, but here now, with her life hanging by a thread she decided it was worth the loss of all her arrows if she could get them out safely.

Mindful of the many branched around her she tried, in vain, to pull the bow in front of her silently. Cussing at her mistake, she sprung from her hideaway, leaving Urúvion to fend for himself, she hoped he'd find somewhere safe to go. Her bow singing she killed the first Orc, her face crinkling in disgust of the creature whose ancestors were once Elves. Grasping another arrow she discarded her bow opting, instead, to strike another of the creatures in the eye. Kicking its hulking body aside she jumped back as a blade swept by her, as if to cleave her in two, it nicked at her bottom lip, blood dripping down her chin. She watched the creature as it neared for another strike, sliding down in the leaf litter, she manoeuvred her body till she was just clear of its legs, pulling out her knives, she pushed herself up, dragging her knives, hands still behind her, up the creatures spine. It fell, black blood spilled, twitching to the ground. That left one more. This one seemed to hold more sense than the others, watching her every move, just as she was watching his. A blade came within in inches of her face, blocked, by her own, just time for the Orc to plunge another towards her ribcage, she couldn't escape it, but moved far enough away that it only sliced against the skin. Her clothes were torn, drenched in her own and Orc blood, her muscles were tense, frigid cold was staring to seep in as the dawn approached. The two circled, the Orc snarling at the Elf, blades sung, and the Orc dropped death to the ground, moments later its head following.

Lothiriel let out the breath she had been holding; it formed a white mist about her head. Whistling, she called for Urúvion, he was shivering but was otherwise fine. She stared at the bodies around her. Four Orc so close to Rivendell, it was as Gandalf feared...the darkness was indeed growing stronger. Moving through the bloodied leaves she picked up her spent arrows, their tips now dyed black, and her bow which now had new splatters of blood to add to the accumulating patterns on its surface. Upon stooping she hissed as the wounded she had just received rubbed against the material of her tunic. Closing her eyes in a moment of pain she straightened herself out, pulling from the pack at her side a strip of cloth, it wasn't as clean as she had hoped , but the bleed needed to be stemmed until she reached Rivendell. Wrapping the cloth around her she tied it in a tight knot, hoping that would give her enough time to reach Rivendell's borders. Now more mindful of her injury she slowly made her way through the forest. It was very unlike that of the Shire, the life here had been touched by darkness, the trees hardly whispered, and the bird song was faint and fleeting. Her feet squelched against the muddied ground, the rain now rolling down from the sky in large fat drops, helped cleanse her face of the grime which had accumulated during her skirmish with the Orcs. Raising her head up, she allowed herself a moment of enjoyment, but far too soon pulling out of the short lived bliss. The foggy grey light of dawn crept through the trees, turning their trunks a colour that resembled the stone ruins of the Watchtower she had passed before entering this wood.

Wet fur brushed up against her leg as Urúvion slid past her, trotting off ahead. His ears were flat against his head as he searched the forest for more danger, his footsteps much lighter than the now injured Elleth that followed him. Glancing back that his mistress, the fox could see more than just physical pain swimming in her eyes.

Lothiriel could feel the slight drain of blood loss, the very edges of her vision blurred. Her heart pounding she walked forward concentrating on the fiery orange blur of the fox ahead of her. Just as she left the dense trees the rain subsided, the gorge was within grasping distance. She only had to make it that far and she'd be safe, Rivendell was only minutes away. Grasping at the edges of her strength, she steadied herself against the rough bark of a tree sending Urúvion onwards to warn of her approach. Taking a deep rasping breath, it was possible that the blade had struck deeper than she had imagined, she started the last leg of her journey to Rivendell.

Her footsteps sounded heavy against the ground, weighed down by her tunic, the oily Orc blood, sliding distastefully against her skin, her own blood sticking to her, pealing at the wound. Each breath becoming almost tedious with every step she took. She wouldn't be putting herself in that situation again, that much she was certain of. Her feet dragged across the stone speckled earth beneath her feet, she could feel shaking, the pounding of hooves. Looking up she could make out the blur of a horse and rider.

Panicking in her delirious state she made to grab for her knives, tumbling into the dirt below her. The rider rushed to her side.

"Elarinya, what have you done to yourself."

"Elrohir?"

Her question hung in the air as Lothiriel fell into the darkness.

Elrohir pick up the body of the Elleth, she was as light as she once was when they had found her wandering alone in the forest, her spirit broken, her only companion a young fox cub. She had been wary at first, frightened like a doe caught in a hunters trap. Her trust was hard to gain, even now he speculated that none of them had won it fully, even Gandalf upon who she looked to as a Grandfather. He placed her onto his horse, jumping nimbly up behind her, taking her weight as she fell back into him. Turning quickly he spurred his horse forward into his father's city, Rivendell.

Time seemed meaningless where Lothiriel was, she was floating in a healing sleep, she knew this but how long for she could not tell, minutes, hours, days, she wouldn't know until she awoke. Wake she must, Elrond must know of Gandalf's message. Struggling with her own mind she managed to pull herself from the depths.

As always the first senses to return was that of smell. So quickly she tested the air, it was clean, crisp, a tinge of autumn. There was a woody, earthy aroma that seemed to give her the strength she so desperately needed. Sweet ambrosial roses were need by, they were freshly picked, and mouth-watering Elven cooking spice carried on the air.

Then came sound, she could hear bird song, a waterfall, the wind rushing through the leaves of the trees. There was music and laughter and nearby steady breathing...abruptly her eyes snapped open. For a moment she lay blinded by the light surrounding her and after a seconds pause, she attempted to leap to her feet, away from whomever, or whatever had been watching her. But she failed, only managing to tangle herself into the sheets draped atop her which caused her to tumble out of the bed she'd been laid in, jarring her wound as she fell.

"Elarinya!" The reply that Elrohir got was a hiss of pain. "Elarinya?"

Hands touched Lothiriels face, pulling it gently round so that she stared into the eyes of...

"Elrohir!" The Elf chuckled at Lothiriels shock. She should have realised sooner, only Elrohir commonly called her by that name. Her eyes softened at the sight of the Elven Prince. "It has been a long time."

"It has, and even when you come back here you are still injured. What happened to you, last we heard you were with Gandalf?"

"It is true, I was with Gandalf...your father Elrohir, I must speak with him!" Lothiriel tried to untangle herself, glancing over Elrohir's shoulder as if he was hiding Elrond from her sight. Pulling free one ankle the Elleth made to sprint for the door to find the floor no longer beneath her. "Elrohir, put me down." Her words were carefully spaced, emphasis on every one.

"No"

"No?"

"My father told me to watch you, this time I do not intend to fail him. Besides, you need your rest, you have not been back for longer than 2 hours, your body needs to heal Elarinya, so let it."

"Urúvion? What happened to him, is he safe?" Once again the Elleth tried to glance around Elrohir, her eyes frantic with worry. Elrohir feared she would make another leap in freedom causing her wound to reopen.

"He is safe" He glanced out of the balcony of the room, "In fact he is making a meal out of the butterflies in the garden." A sigh of relief escaped Lothiriels lips as she relaxed back into the bedding.

"Elrohir, tell your father that Gandalf fears he might have found the one ring, and that Sauron is once again rising to power. The Orcs are becoming bolder...the one...darkness...thank you." Leaving Elrohir with that, Lothiriel once again faded into the dark of a healing sleep.

It had been 2 days since Lothiriel had made her entrance to Rivendell, unconscious and bleeding, carried by Elrohirs horse,and she had not heard the end of it. Although Elrohir was more lenient in his teasing than his brother, Elladan, she was near murdering both of them. It was now, in the dying rays of the sun that she managed to find some form of peace, a chance to enjoy Rivendell after being gone for so long.

She lay in a hidden part of the gardens, a pale clear ribbon of water completely circled her, along with a great wall of greenery which was docked with the odd brilliantly blooming flower head. There were vivid reds and deep purples, bright yellows which turned orange when night came and sparkling whites which, although duller by day, glowed with a mithril-like shimmer by night. Her mahogany hair shimmered deep gold as it lay spread against the mossy bed which she was relaxed upon. By her side as always lay Urúvion, his tail tickling her hand. She had these moments varied and few so she revealed in them, relaxing and forgetting the world around her in her own secret garden.

As the sun fell below the mountains she decided to move, if her luck held she would avoid the two brothers that tormented her so. But the Elleth was so focused on avoiding the brothers that she almost walked headlong into Arwen. Lothiriel shied away from the Elf, she had nothing against Arwen, but she had never know her well nor attempted to, it was well know that Lothiriel did not trust many of her race so many never took the chance to try to know her better. Arwen was one of this class, she perceived that the Elleth did not need her company when it seemed she did well enough with her brothers, but still Arwen hoped one day that would not be the case. But, as Lothiriel edged away from her, today did not seem to be that day.

Lothiriel was lucky enough it seemed to avoid the brothers as she made her way back to her room. She moved towards the balcony, gazing out into Rivendell. The lanterns were just being lit, their light combined with that of the star cast a hazy silver sheen to all it touched. It reminded her of Lothlorien, of home. Lothiriel turned away from the window, leaving nothing but one tear that clung to the wooden leaves of Rivendell.

**Another chapter done, not sure how this one went as I've written it quite late into the night but hopefully it's good, once again thank you to everyone for their help with the former chapter, it was really kind of you to offer it to me.**

**Charlotte-Elizabeth x**


	3. AN

Authors Note

I know this is looked down on but I feel I have to tell you that I'm unsure where to go with the next chapter of this story so it is currently on hold until I can get some inspiration on how to complete it. I am very sorry for this.

Charlotte


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